A Stitch In The Wrong Direction
by amatt11
Summary: Being a small town girl with big dreams, life wasn't exactly easy growing up. Now 28 and one of New York's most famous fashionista's, Meredith must make a choice. Getting involved with a heartbreaker was easy, but getting out of it may be a little "sketchy".


**Chapter One**

Ever since I was a little girl, there were two things I had always dreamed of. One, that I would be a successful fashion designer. Two, that I would some day live in the big, bright city known as New York City.

Before my father passed away, he took me up there with him on a business trip. That's when I discovered my true love for fashion, and my love for the fast pace city. I remember sitting in the window seal of the enormous hotel, The Plaza, looking out at the city. I would watch taxis speed through the streets, millions and millions of people walk up and down the sidewalks, and eventually, let the bright city lights gleam in my eyes. There wasn't anything I wanted more than to one day live right in the middle of the N.Y.C.

Coming from a small town in Alabama, I had never seen anything like it before. In Alabama, the closest thing to a city was about 56 miles up the road, and all that was really there was a small Winn Dixie, Dave's Drive-In Movie Cinema, and a Seven-Eleven Gasoline store. I wanted more in my life than the small atmosphere my parents had also grown up in.

My parents were high school sweethearts, having me at the age seventeen. They weren't ready for a child, but my Father was persistent on my Mother carrying me to full term. Mother wanted the party life, and still wasn't out of her phase by the time I was here. But who could blame her. She was only seventeen and still wanted to live her life with no responsibilities, and have no one look up to her for anything. She didn't want to be answered to.

That's why at the age of two, my Mother walked out on my Father and I. She told him that she had given it her all, and that being a mother just wasn't for her. She was sorry, but not sorry enough to stay and put herself through a situation she knew she could not handle. My Father was heartbroken, and struggled to keep a job plus, take care of me. Two weeks after she left, we went to live with my Grandmother. Still in same town known as "Clowse", I learned to read and write my abc's, eat my vegetables, and respect the Lord above, for he had given me the gift of life. Entering intermediate school, I had already known just about everyone in my class. It was hard not to know someone, being in such small corners. I hadn't dreamed of leaving Clowse, until the age of 11. That's when my Father took me to New York, you see.

By then, my Father was a successful business man, traveling around here and there. We still lived with my grandmother, letting my Father take care of my Grammy, and Grammy take care of me. Whenever he wasn't traveling, he was home with us. He would drive me around, take me for ice cream, and play an occasional game of baseball with me. I loved my Father, and still do to this day. I looked up to him, and respected him for all he had been through just to put food on the table and clothes on my back.

I remember walking up the steps to the walk-around porch to Grammy's on a Tuesday afternoon. I just got done playing with the kids around the neighborhood, and it was getting dark outside. Grammy's was lit up inside, and I could see her sitting in her old wooden rocking chair. She loved that thing. I walked in the door, and made my way over to her. From behind, I could see her shaking uncontrollably. She must have heard me walk in, because her head spun around quickly, only to look me dead in the eyes. The once grey-green eyes I had come so adjusted, were now bloodshot red. Tears rolled down her face, like rain down windshield. My feet must have got the signal before I did, before I was running quickly over to her. I began asking her repeatedly what was wrong. That's when she embraced me, by giving me a warm hug. She told me how sorry she was, and how we would both help each other through the hurt we were feeling. There would have to be some adjusting, but we would grow accustomed to it eventually. I still didn't understand what she ment. I didn't make any sense to me. That's when she finally told me. The news that would forever change me.

**"You're father is dead."**

Ever since that day, my outlook on life was very different. I had never lost anyone as near and dear to me before, besides my mother walking out on me when I was two. Even then, it didn't really affect me. I was so small, I couldn't quite comprehend what was happening. I isolated myself from others, including my friends, teachers, and even Grammy. Losing my father was hard.

I sketched through the pain. Stretching dresses, outfits, shoes, jewelry, all of it. I started my book, and eventually, I had my collection. I could express myself through fashion, in ways others could never help me. I got through middle school, high school, and hit the road by the time I was eighteen. I promised Grammy I would come visit her, and once I had made something of myself, I would fly her out to attend my very first fashion show. I also promised to send a little money every month, and would one day take care of her the way she had always been there to take care of me.

I had set foot on a world-wind of adventures, making my way up the country to the one and only, New York City. With a large suitcase, some money in my back pocket, and my collection of sketches, I made it there. I got my first job at a Macy's, and lived in a bit-sized basement below an old two-story building. So it wasn't exactly magical, but it was New York.

Three years later, I was growing impatient. I wanted someone to notice my sketches. Grammy made me promise to stay and not give up on my dream. But I could help but question myself. Was it just me? Was I the only one who thought they were any good? Ranting to who would one day be my very best friend, a woman had overheard us in the Women's Fashion Department of Macy's.

I'm now 28 years old. I permanently live in New York City, and is President of the Meredith Anastasia Industry. I've come a long way, but wouldn't change a thing.

Well, _maybe_...


End file.
